


Nine Decades in the Past

by stalltherain



Series: Ones You Love [4]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Character Death Fix, Developing Relationship, F/M, Female Bonding, Female Friendship, First Kiss, Fix-It, Kissing, Nightmares, Post-Canon Fix-It, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stalltherain/pseuds/stalltherain
Summary: Desperate to save Garcia Flynn, Lucy jumps to a time in his past to give him a message. Includes Jiya & Lucy friendship. (Part 4/7)Best if read as part of the series, but can be read stand-alone or started here if you’re not interested in the angsty previous parts.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Series: Ones You Love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849153
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	Nine Decades in the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to SetFiresJust2WatchThemBurn for the beta.

Icy air bites Lucy’s skin. A blanket of warm arms envelops her. She basks. She opens her eyes. A faceless woman with blond curls in Garcia’s arms. The chilly air overtakes her. His face illuminates with joy. She longs for warmth. The woman blows away into finely powdered flakes. Garcia stands opposite her in an abyss. His eyes. Anguish and betrayal. "Lucy, what have you done?" Her mouth opens. No words. In her head, _It wasn’t me_. A gold crown glistens on her head. "Congratulations, honey. I’m so proud." Her mother’s adoring smile. Garcia Flynn lying motionless and pale. "I knew you’d come around." Her father beams; his grin hovering above the lifeless body. Garcia’s icy eyes open. "Lucy, why?"

Lucy awakens with a scream.

The lights are on; a fallen file folder rests halfway on her legs. Pages are scattered on the bed beside her lap. She checks the clock. Seven a.m. She stands, pushes open the heavy door, and drifts toward the smell of coffee. 

It’s been three days staying in the bunker, reading mission reports. Denise refused to let her take them home. Friends or not, the Homeland Security agent wouldn’t risk information on time travel falling into the wrong hands. Daily visits to the most top-secret bunker in the country were also out of the question. So Lucy moved in for a bit.

Lucy pours coffee into her cup, letting the aroma of the rising steam wash over her.

"Ooooh." Jiya walks into the kitchen in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants. "Someone already made coffee. Thank you."

"I can’t take credit," Lucy says. "It must have been Connor. He wanted to wake up early to do… honestly to do something that went way over my head. How is autopilot coming along?"

Jiya chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Homeland Security asked us to put a lock on it."

"What?"

"Yeah, a passcode like it’s a phone." Jiya pours coffee into her mug. "Because ya know, time machines are so simple, they threw in a feature request, too. They don’t want some random, unauthorized person taking the ship. Of course, I can’t point out that if there weren’t an autopilot, that wouldn’t be a problem." 

"Are you going to do it?"

Jiya reaches for the sugar container and pours some into her cup. "To be honest, adding a passcode would be easier than fixing autopilot. The processing speed needed to make those calculations is so high that future me had to use a quantum processor which was obviously experimental and designed only for short term use. When we got in there, the thing was fried. Even if we could recreate one, it would only give us a handful of jumps before we’d need another."

"So no autopilot, but they’re still letting you work on the lifeboat?"

Jiya grabs a spoon from the cup of utensils on the counter. "Denise requested preventative maintenance." She grins. "We just didn’t mention autopilot was broken before she asked." The spoon clinks around her glass as she stirs. "They should have been doing maintenance anyway. You can’t just let a machine sit for years and expect it to work perfectly without repairs. We’ll give them the full report when our 'tests' are done." She tosses her spoon to clatter around the sink then takes a seat at the table across from Lucy. "Speaking of which, did Denise call you last night?"

Lucy leans her elbow on the table. "No, why?"

"They approved the test jumps. You just need to find us a time and place."

Lucy’s face brightens. "I can’t believe it. Thank you. I don’t know why you’re willing to do this." 

"Well," Jiya teases, "you’re good at a guilt trip, I guess."

Despite Jiya’s levity, there’s a possibility that any action in the past could make unexpected changes to the timeline. That includes undoing Rufus’ resurrection. Lucy and Rufus both have personal reasons for wanting to save Flynn, but Jiya has more to lose than gain.

"I mean it, Jiya. I know it’s a lot to ask. Going back risks changing your whole life."

"Yours too. We all have a lot to lose. But we won’t. We’ll find a way to save Flynn plus keep everyone we love safe."

"Since when are you so optimistic?" Lucy pushes away a stray sense of irritation at Jiya’s statement without stopping to consider what part of those words bothered her. 

Jiya shifts in her chair. "I had a vision."

"Really? But you couldn’t see what happened in 2012. Why now?"

"I don’t know. When I couldn’t see anything, I thought it meant something bad was going to happen. But I guess my ability just got rusty. Maybe our trip gave it a jumpstart."

"So did you see us in the past? Do you know how to save Flynn?"

"No. I saw Rufus. He was wearing a suit I’ve never seen before. There was a carnation in his pocket. I couldn’t see much else, but it was definitely something we haven’t done already. It was like my visions of Chinatown when I knew his death was unavoidable. But this time, I got the feeling that whatever we’re going to do, we’ll be okay."

"That’s encouraging at least." Lucy wraps her hands around her mug and leans both elbows on the table. Lacking any concrete solutions, she probes about one of her previously discarded ones. "About Chinatown, do you ever think about it? I mean, going back and undoing it? We never talked about what happened there, but it must have been hard."

"So... interesting story." Jiya leans back in her seat. "We sort of undid it. One of the side effects of São Paulo was that I didn’t remember living in Chinatown after you three returned."

"Wait. You don’t remember…"

"I didn’t." Jiya leans in. "There were five years between my last trip and São Paulo. So Rufus and I had five years difference in the conversations we each remembered. It was a little difficult, not something your standard relationship counselor is equipped to address." Her eyes drift to the ceiling, and she laughs. "They can't wrap their head around it not being two different interpretations of the same memories. But I was able to use my visions to reconcile everything. Now I basically have memories of both timelines." 

"So you wouldn’t want to change it?"

"Obviously, I wish it never happened. If you had asked me the day I came home, maybe -- no, probably. But if I changed it now, I wouldn’t be the same person. It hasn't been easy to get here, but I'm happy where I am now."

Lucy studies the coffee between her hands. "I get that. I used to have this illusion that my mother was this amazing woman. I looked up to her. I thought she wanted me to follow in her footsteps because she loved me so much. It was safe and comforting. Some days I even miss it, but now that I know the truth, I would never go back to that lie."

Jiya raises her mug just above the table. "To overcoming."

Lucy lifts her drink then brings it back down. "Well, I should get back to it."

"Good luck."

Lucy stands and walks past her friend. She stops short when she encounters an unexpected obstacle rounding the corner. Lucy and Rufus both jump back. Coffee splashes onto the floor.

"Sorry." Lucy grabs a rag off the counter.

"No, my fault, too." Rufus takes a step back to make room as Lucy bends down to wipe up the mess. "Hey, did you tell Wyatt that Jiya and I are with you in wine country?"

Lucy sucks in a long breath as she stands. "Shit. Yeah." Her nose wrinkles. "I needed a reason to have the girls stay with him."

"Well… A heads up would have been nice. He called to ask how it was going." Rufus crosses his arms and tilts his head. "I tried to cover, but I think he realized I had no idea what he was talking about."

"I’m sorry I asked you to keep this from him. He would hate it if he knew, but I’ll be the one to tell him after we succeed. He’ll come around."

Lucy tosses the rag in the sink and passes Rufus, heading back to her temporary bedroom. Having so many of the group here with her is almost like old times. At least this time she doesn’t have to sleep on a couch. Lucy pulls open the worn metal door with the word "ARMY" printed in fading gray paint. As the door closes behind her, she tugs her flannel robe around herself with one hand. 

She takes a sip of coffee then sets her mug on a waist-high file cabinet she dragged next to the narrow bed. A stack of unread folders sits atop the make-shift night table. On the floor are two more stacks. One pile for maybe, one for no. Maybes are missions where Lucy found a possible time and place to get Flynn a message. Nos are missions she can’t. The no pile already has a dozen folders. The maybe pile has one; when Houdini cuffed Flynn in Chicago. It might work as a last resort, but she assumes Flynn wouldn’t be in a trusting frame of mind after the other her just tricked him.

Grabbing the unread stack, she sits and brings her legs up onto the bed. She places the files next to her. Reading these reports reminds Lucy of relearning history before she returned to teaching. Most events and details match, but not all. Like William Medows, not Charles Cornwallis, negotiated the Treaty of Amiens; Cornwallis having been unceremoniously killed by Flynn. She was horrified when it happened, but after everything Lucy has been through since, it amused her that Flynn had actually been right. Britain _had_ found another redcoat to take his place.

The changes to history mostly followed that pattern; one person taking the place of another, as if there really were an unknown force that wanted events to take place. Like Baumgartner never replaced Wyatt. Instead, a man named Hartford joined the mission to rescue Charles Lindberg. Unlike Baumgartner, Hartford survived. Maybe he was a Rittenhouse agent, joining them because of the changes in 2012. Or maybe not. Maybe at some point, someone killed Baumgartner’s great grandmother.

Lucy grabs the folder at the top of the pile.

_San Antonio, Texas. November 23, 1936_

The mission where Flynn had convinced her to open up to him by humming "I Wished on a Moon". They’d all joked and danced to the blues after hearing Robert Johnson record one of the most influential albums of all time. She’d fallen asleep on his bed after talking late into the night.

Lucy opens the folder. What's written is the same as she remembers, excluding the personal details, of course. Lucy places the file on the no pile. She was with Flynn every minute. No chance to get him alone.

She grabs the next folder.

_Wallingford, Connecticut. September 17, 1934._

Lucy holds her breath. She never went on this mission. When it went awry, Flynn was left alone for hours. The team wouldn’t even need to worry about the effects of overlapping their past.

Lucy scours the report to find the details she needs. She stands, grabs her phone, and calls Denise.

###

A day later, Rufus, Jiya, and Lucy touch down nine decades in the past. The lifeboat lands in the woods near young John F. Kennedy’s Connecticut boarding school.

Lucy climbs from the lifeboat, stumbling backward as she steps on her dress while trying to keep it from catching in the door. She retrieves her hat from the ground and secures the small woven cap, smoothing and tucking away her layered curls. She brushes the front of her dress flat. Her clothes aren’t accurate to the period. The fabric and print are wrong, and the neckline should higher. But the length and loose sleeves are as close as Denise could get at a department store on short notice. It should at least be close enough not to call attention to herself.

The door closes behind her, leaving Rufus and Jiya waiting in the lifeboat. Here, Rufus overlaps with his past self. The lifeboat upgrades are enough to compensate for those few minutes, but it’s best he doesn’t run directly into himself. Flynn will also be easier to convince if Lucy goes alone. Thanks to his report, she knows exactly where to find him. Now is the only point on the mission when he won’t be running throughout the town tracking Rittenhouse agents or dodging the police.

Lucy makes her way through the woods toward the exchange of gunfire. She stays close to the exterior dormitory wall, out of sight of anyone who might remain and anyone who might want to shoot at her. A gunshot explodes louder than she expects, and Lucy ducks. When she's sure bullets aren't coming in her direction, she rises. She edges along the wall toward where Flynn, Wyatt, and Rufus have taken a stand behind granite statues and picnic tables.

"Get him out of here!" Flynn’s voice echoes from the courtyard. 

More gunshots, accompanied by the cracks of splintering wood and rock; then footsteps on concrete. Lucy ducks into a doorway. Wyatt and Rufus run past into the woods carrying an unconscious young JFK with his arms draped over their shoulders.

###

Strategically timed shots ring out, providing cover as the men move into the woods. The debacle Garcia has found himself in might have been avoided had Lucy been with them. The team could have quickly identified JFK as the target. If they had more time at the school, they might have discovered the headmaster was not the only Rittenhouse sleeper agent. Instead, when Garcia burst into the headmaster’s office and opened fire, both the secretary and a teacher came running as backup.

The team fled to the courtyard. They might have escaped if a stray bullet hadn’t hit the stone boar mascot that the kid was taking cover behind. A hefty tusk broke off and knocked him unconscious, taking away the option for all of them to flee.

As his teammates escape, Garcia remains alone to face the three agents. It’s not the worst situation he’s been in, but he’s not as well-armed as he would like under the circumstances. One gun and a limited supply of ammo. He could die here, left behind in 1934 as a sacrifice to save JFK.

The middle-aged headmaster takes cover behind an upturned stone bench. He hasn’t returned fire. He’s wounded and can’t get a clear shot at Garcia. 

The secretary, an older woman with spectacles that are probably fake, is hunkered down behind a statue a few feet from the doorway of the administrative building. 

Garcia notices her foot move. He fires a shot. Stone blasts into the air near her shoulder. She’s the biggest threat. If she makes it back inside, she could work her way around the building and flank him. 

The teacher fires from the right. The dormitory wall splinters above Garcia’s head. The young man doesn’t have a clear shot. But he does have a line of sight on Garcia’s escape route. 

The others must have enough of a head start by now. If Garcia can take out this one man, he might escape.

He notices a small movement near the bench where the headmaster is taking cover. A shoulder edges out. Garcia fires a shot. 

Another movement to his right. A tuft of brown hair pokes out. Then a burst of arms. A wicked grin spreads on Garcia’s lips. The other man has made a mistake. Garcia takes the shot. He doesn’t stay to watch him fall. 

Seconds after Garcia rounds the corner of the dormitory wall, he’s nearly toppled by an unexpected obstacle. He pulls back, lifting his gun. Then he registers her face. 

"Lucy?"

Footsteps from the courtyard move closer. He grabs her hand, drags her to her feet, and whisks her along. "Come on!"

They take off running into the dorms.

"Where are we going?"

"Away from the people trying to kill us!"

They exit the dormitory then keep running across the grass. Garcia pulls open the door of the next building. They run through its halls. Footsteps echo as they pass empty classrooms. Garcia pushes open the exit door, and Lucy emerges into the grass near the road onto campus. Catching his breath in the doorway, he surveys their situation, listening inside. No sounds of footsteps. No sign of their pursuers. The deserted campus remains silent.

He tucks away his gun and paces away from the building toward Lucy. "They’re not following. Probably went after JFK. I’ll circle back to the woods and trail them. Go to the chapel. I’ll find you when I’m done."

"No, wait." Lucy grabs his arm as he moves to leave. "I know where they'll be."

Confusion creases his brow. "You do?"

"The freight depot in an hour."

An antiquated police siren awakens in the distance.

Garcia blinks and cocks his head. "You should still be in bed." He steps closer and lifts his hand toward her arm that had been cut by witch-hanging imbecile. His hand hovers short of touching her. "Why did you come?"

He searches her face. She looks surprisingly well considering she was out of it, suffering from an infection and fever, when he left. And is it his imagination, or are her eyes softer, warmer. Knowing, piercing his exterior. Familiar and trusting.

He tilts his head. "You're not... _my_ Lucy." When Lucy's eyes grow slightly larger, warmth flashes over his cheeks as he realizes he might have spoken with an awkward inflection on the word "my". Garcia clears his throat, and his tongue darts across his lips. "Uh… our Lucy." He casts his eyes to his feet, shifting them into a wider stance and clasping his hands. After a moment, his eyes flicker up to meet hers. "So… why are you here?"

In the air, the sirens grow louder.

Lucy has brought carefully crafted words, a phrase which provides Flynn just enough information to save himself. But as she beholds the open book before her, the only words that come to mind are, _Please don’t leave me._

A siren blare fills the air.

Without warning, Flynn grabs her waist and pulls her with him into the doorway. Lucy peeks up and watches his line of sight track a police car. His arm remains snugly around her waist, holding her out of sight against him. Once the car passes, he glances down. His face goes white, and he drops his hand. 

"Sorry." He watches the sky, waiting for her to step away.

A corner of her mind screams at her to step back, but she can only focus on the solidness of him. Warm and real. Flesh and blood. Not a dream that will freeze into ice or turn to dust beneath her touch.

Garcia surveys her wide, darkened eyes. His brows knit in confusion. "Lucy..." 

Her hands come to rest on the lapels of his suit. Her eyes slide closed at the feel of his heart pounding beneath her fingers.

Garcia tries to ignore her parted lips as her eyelids flutter open. Tries to ignore the softness and warmth of her body against his. He reminds himself he doesn't know this woman; doesn’t know why she's here or what she wants from him. Her hand slides further up his collar, and the electricity beneath her touch is hard to ignore. He swallows. It's completely disorienting. Lucy but not Lucy.

Is this the woman from the journal? The one he’d grown to care about over years of reading its pages? The woman who came to him in São Paulo? Who swept in like a beautiful savior, softly placed a kiss on his cheek then walked out, leaving him alone and haunted by yet another ghost; but giving him a reason to go on. The woman he met in front of a sky full of fire? More terrified and uncertain than he imagined, but now becoming the woman he’d gotten to know on the pages of a journal handed to him across time.

He studies her eyes. The same ones he remembers from the bar. Filled with knowing and sadness. Now sorrow is paired with burning and pleading, a longing he’s made great effort not to imagine while reading certain parts of Lucy's journal.

He reminds himself he doesn't know this Lucy, and he should push her away. His tongue darts over his lower lip trailed by his teeth. He tells himself again that he should push her away. Defying him, his hand travels to her hip. Her eyes burn through him as she raises onto her toes. His hand slides up her lower back. Her fingers slip around his neck, and any semblance of why he shouldn't kiss her drifts into ash as he leans downward.

Lucy’s eyes slide closed. Her lips brush his; a touch with softness like the fear of shattering glass with only a sound. She drinks in his warmth, the almost forgotten scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Lucy’s fingers splay through his hair and pull him downward, replacing the fear of losing him with the raw need to fill an empty void. 

Lucy wraps his necktie around her fingers and drags him into her. Garcia’s hands work through her hair, casting her hat to the ground as they explore each other.

Another siren cuts through the air.

Lucy jumps back. "Oh my God." She brings her hand to her chest.

Garcia blinks at her sudden retreat. His eyes narrow. Lucy follows his gaze and notices the wedding ring she's worn habitually on her finger. She quickly covers her left hand with her other, as if hiding a guilty secret.

Garcia’s pupils flick back and forth as he processes the sight. He runs his hand down his face and leans into the wall like he might collapse under his own weight.

Lucy reaches out to him. "This isn't…"

He raises his hands in front of himself, halting her advance. "I don’t know what's going on here. But I'm guessing from your reaction that I’m not the person you have to explain it to."

"It's not like that, not exactly…"

He crosses his arms. His voice remains steady. "What’s it like then?"

"I..." She bites her lip and closes her eyes. She’s grown so used to wearing her ring; it never occurred to her to take it off. Now, she fights the urge to throw it. But she can’t tell Garcia that. Anything she tells him could change the timeline more than she might already have. "I can’t say."

Garcia strides past her. He takes a deep breath and turns to face her with fire flashing in his eyes. "Okay. Don’t explain. I don't even know you." He exhales sharply. He leans toward her, tapping the air with his thumb and forefinger together. "This is absurd. You bring me a journal, try to kill me, get me arrested, break me out of jail. Now you show up from who knows when and… and kiss me. But also, you're apparently married to… Who?" He holds his tongue between his teeth at the side of his mouth, shaking his head. "Let me guess. Wyatt?" He takes a step forward and lifts his hands open at his sides. "What do you want from me, Lucy?"

She steps toward him. "I just want to save your life."

He closes the distance. His eyes soften. "So where does this come in?"

"I… I don't know. I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have done that."

He blinks and nods, then his eyes cast to the ground as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

Lucy fights the urge to throw her arms around him, to apologize for the lost expression on his face. It takes all her willpower not to grab his hand and run for the lifeboat. Timeline changes be damned.

"So what do you need, Lucy?"

She blinks as she tries to remember the phrase she’s planned. Something about playing cowboy and a day to return to in 2025. The words seem hollow. Too crafted and precisely designed to not give away any detail of his future. Too little for how she feels. 

She steps in and raises onto her toes to place a kiss on his lips. Lucy’s eyes turn to steel as they match his. "Just come back to me."

Without a glance back, Lucy turns and runs. She races to the lifeboat, ignoring the twigs and branches scraping at her bare calves. She doesn’t stop until she’s buckled inside, ready to return to a future with a living Garcia Flynn.


End file.
